


Treacherous Hearts

by anorchidisnotaflower



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Season/Series 05, the reunion scene was GREAT but consider....... more crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 14:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anorchidisnotaflower/pseuds/anorchidisnotaflower
Summary: "Oswald can’t help but let his mind wander back to every moment between them, every gunshot and barb and soft look—Andgod, Oswald still can’t stop the treacherous beat of his heart if he tries. The persistent ache, the flutter, the fall."After their tumultuous reunion in 5x05, Oswald and Ed still have some things to work through.





	Treacherous Hearts

The second Oswald gets back to City Hall he can feel his hands begin to shake. He barely makes it to his desk, screaming at every guard to leave, before he collapses into the chair, arms trembling and head spinning.

At the very least, Jim had let him live. But there's still a persistent nagging in the back of his head that's quickly approaching the forefront. A certain green-clad _idiot_ who had to go and screw it all up again.

“Ed…” Oswald says, or tries to. It comes out like a thin rasp.

He can hear Edward—not the green one—whining underneath the desk. Oswald can barely reach down to pat him, still shaking.

Why had Oswald said any of it? Why hadn’t he just been honest for once, instead of spouting his murderous intent? Why couldn’t Ed have just… wanted to be friends again?

Oswald can’t help but let his mind wander back to every moment between them, every gunshot and barb and soft look—

And _god_ , Oswald still can’t stop the treacherous beat of his heart if he tries. The persistent ache, the flutter, the fall.

He puts his head in his hands, and he weeps.

\---

Ed wakes up with a gun in his hand and Jim Gordon in his grasp and he barely has time to think before Jim’s throwing a punch.

Ed falls, head whacking the concrete and _oh_ , that’s painful. A shock of stars and agony bursts through his head.

“J-JIM!” he tries to yell. It comes out like a groan.

The gun is wrenched away from his hands and soon enough there’s cold metal against his chin. Jim’s looming over him, free hand curled into Ed’s lapels and borderline growling.

“Jim, i-it’s me, it’s me—” Ed’s yelling, trying to do anything to get that gun out of his face.

Jim pauses. “Ed?”

“Wh… Where am I?” Ed asks.

Jim drops Ed as abruptly as he had grabbed him and stuffs the gun back into the holster at his waist. Ed scrambles up, swaying a little from the pounding in his skull.

“Ed, we’re going to have to take you in to get this sorted out,” Jim’s saying, and oh dear, Ed isn’t staying around long enough for _that_ plan.

Ed’s already down the next street by the time Jim notices he’s gone. He keeps scrambling, block after block, before he realizes Jim isn’t running after him.

Ed finally stops, breathing harsh. He leans up against the brick wall of an alley, trying to get his head in order.

Goddamn Hugo Strange. He can’t _think_ , can’t even breathe or walk properly. Everything’s spinning like a top and all he can think about is—

Why did he say those things? Why did he meet Oswald’s outstretched hand with a wall? Why didn’t Oswald just want their friendship back?

But Oswald said he would protect him. He _had_ to, or it would end in betrayal like everything else. And Ed would keep taking advantage of him until this city burned to the ground.

Until either of them tried something different besides murder and greed and blood.

Ed sinks to the ground, his head falling to his knees. He can feel his whole frame beginning to shake and he curls further inward, trying to become invisible.

No one can find him like this.

But even still, Ed begins to sob.

\---

Ed glances up a few moments later, trying to get back on his feet and stop this dreaded emotion from spilling over and out and over again.

And isn’t it funny, really, that when running from danger he ran to the one place that was full of it?

Ed struggles up and begins to walk, step by step, to City Hall.

\---

Oswald looks up sharply at the knock on the door.

“What?” he shrieks.

“There’s a visitor here for you, boss,” a guard yells back. “I know you said no interruptions, but—”

“There is no ‘but’!” Oswald calls back, getting up from his desk. “Send them away!”

“Boss… this guy’s pretty rough-looking. It’s the one from earlier,” the guard replies.

“The…” Oswald barely gets the word out. Did he… Did he really…?

“Send him in!” Oswald yells. “And no more interruptions or it’s _your head!_ ”

“Yessir!” the guard calls, sounding a little strained. Good. That’ll teach him for disrupting so rudely.

The door opens slowly and Edward Nygma slinks in, looking somehow worse than earlier. His stringy hair is all over the place, his suit is torn, and his eyes…

Ed stares at Oswald, blinking rapidly.

Oswald can only stare back. He knows his own eyes are puffy with no way to hide them, and he just _knows_ Ed is going to make a jab at him for it. Then again, with how Ed looks, he might be safe for the moment.

“Why are you here, Ed? Didn’t we already discuss enough?” Oswald says. He aims for his usual cruel and ends up sounding soft instead. Great.

Ed keeps staring. “I… I don’t know.”

“Did you find Strange?” Oswald asks.

Edward blinks. Shudders. “Yes.”

Oswald frowns, looking Ed over once more. Something seems off. More off than usual.

“What did Strange do to you?” he practically snarls.

“H-He… He planted a chip. In my brain,” Ed says. “He can c-control me remotely— Listen, I don’t have much time.”

Ed unfreezes and strides forward, getting within a foot of Oswald. Oswald tries not to step back.

“Wh… Ed, what are you talki—”

“Oswald, _please_ ,” Ed says, and it’s so desperate that Oswald feels something lodge in his throat.

“I don’t know when Strange is going to make me do something again, but he can do it anytime, and I can’t keep running around like this because I might—I might hurt someone,” Ed rambles, coming to a slow stop. “Again.”

There’s a pause, and Oswald waits for Ed to finish but he doesn’t, he just stares at his feet.

“Ed—” Oswald barely speaks before Ed’s head snaps back up to look at him and, oh, is Ed… crying?

“I miss you,” Ed whispers.

Oswald’s heart stops beating in his chest.

“I…” Oswald breathes. “I miss you, too.”

“Why couldn’t we just—” Ed stops. “Why couldn’t we just go back? To how we were? That’s all… that’s all I wanted.”

Oswald’s heart is slipping, slipping, slipping.

“I never wanted to kill you,” Oswald says, voice hoarse. “You… you know that. But you need to _know_ that, Ed. I never wanted any of this.”

Ed is shaking, backing away one slow inch at a time, and Oswald wants to push him away and pull him closer all at once.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Ed says.

Oswald’s mouth opens, closes. “I haven’t lied since… since her. Never about the things that mattered, not to you.”

Ed stops backing away. It is the first time Oswald has ever dared to mention Isabelle since everything went wrong. It is the last time he’ll even try.

“But you were so _selfish_ ,” Ed says, and there, there’s the old vengeful relish in his voice. “I said I would do anything for you, and you threw that away!”

“I never cared about someone like that before!” Oswald yells back, voice breaking on every syllable. “I didn’t—I wanted to say something, but I was a coward. And I know that. And I hate myself every day for it!”

Ed isn’t saying anything anymore, his hands curling by his sides. “You… you’re actually sorry?”

Oswald smiles, but it’s watery and imperfect and so, so painful. “Of course. Every minute of every day, I am sorry for hurting you. For hurting her to get to you. I just… I want to go back too, Ed. That’s all I want.”

Ed’s gone completely still, not meeting Oswald’s eyes.

“…I’m sorry. I’m such—" Ed barks out a laugh, strained and awful. “I’m such a damn idiot, all of me. I never wanted to hurt you, I just… wanted you.”

Oswald’s heart stills and stops and snaps in two.

“What?” Oswald says, scarcely breathing.

“No, that wasn’t—” Ed stops. “I want—I wanted—”

Ed stares daggers into the ground as Oswald looks on.

Ed huffs. “I can’t… the words won’t…”

“Ed, you don’t have to—”

“No, no, I need to say this.” Ed breathes in, out, slow.

“Oswald Cobblepot,” Ed says.

Oswald cannot hope. Oswald is hoping regardless.

“I didn’t want to feel anything for you,” Ed says. He is staring right into Oswald’s eyes and _god_ , he cannot look away.

“I still don’t,” Ed murmurs. “But I can’t keep running away.”

Oswald can’t speak. His tongue is leaden and light all at once.

Ed, too, is silent. He’s shaking like a leaf, and suddenly he curls in on himself, grasping both arms tight.

Oswald starts. “Ed, wait, hold on, here—”

Oswald takes one step, two, close enough to reach out his arms and leave his hands hovering over Ed’s hands. He can’t do this.

But Ed does it for him, seizing Oswald around the middle and holding him so, so close.

Oswald’s hands hover for another moment as Ed buries his head in Oswald’s shoulder, trembling. And then it hits Oswald that Ed _wants_ this, really does, and Oswald draws his arms around Ed’s back and presses slow circles there, murmuring soothing nonsense.

“ _God_ ,” Ed says, and it’s so muffled and so broken that Oswald knows he’s crying now, too. He slowly buries his face in Ed’s shoulder, making them mirrors of each other. Ed’s arms tighten around him.

They’re home.

Eventually, Ed loosens his hold and Oswald loosens his, but neither enough to break apart fully. They hover in each other’s spaces, just looking at each other.

After a moment, Oswald grips a lock of Ed’s hair between his fingers.

“We’re really going to need to do something about this,” he says. Ed laughs, soft and low like he used to, and Oswald smiles back because they are finally, finally doing something about this.


End file.
